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bakerstreet2014-04-01 06:31 pm
( other-wordly )
The Other-Wordly Meme
Words are magical things; they can have so many lovely connotations and varied histories.
Words have family trees just like people. They are linked to each other.
Some words are full of flavor and color and describe things you never suspected there were words for.
Words are why we're here.
The meme is simple: post a comment with your muse's name and canon in the subject line.
List any preferences you may have ("No Shipping," "No Smut," etc.), if you decide to leave the next step up to responders.
Responders (or original posters, if they so decide), go to the Other-Wordly blog and hit 'Random' until you get a word. Use the word as a prompt to write up an RP scenario. Do this several times, if you like. Mix and match. Have fun with it!
/peers
no subject
It's even banned in some states now, so he hears.
Then, he never was much of a smoker. They may not have known the whole spiel about what it does to your lungs back then (and Bucky still doesn't know the science of it - chances are he doesn't have to care), but he knew what cigarette smoke did to Steve, and that was reason enough to keep any dalliances with the things both occasional and mostly outdoors.
Sometimes it just completed a look, you know? And, in those days, that was something to which he paid attention.
Then, cigarettes got traded around the base like currency. A few puffs on a paper stick and your shoulders slackened a little more from the stiffness of the day. It was still only occasional.
And he hasn't exactly picked up a habit, now. It's more a way to keep occupied. Something to do with his hands when they get twitchy. Almost an experiment to see if the old effects he remembers still work. So it's not until he's got the message from Steve asking to come over - not until he's casually sent back a yeah, I'm awake, that an even older habit kicks in.
By the time Steve gets there, all the windows are open and he's flapped a newspaper round once or twice, but the smell's still stubborn in hanging in the air.]
no subject
Asthma made it hard.
His habit has more to do with walking in the door and every time he sees Bucky it's like being back in 1940, and he's still the small guy even though the point of view is different now. He doesn't even knock, why would he? He just glances at Bucky, quick and with raised eyebrows, but then a smile.]
I haven't had a coughing fit in a long time.
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Not what he did, back then. But how it was swept away afterwards. And he was swept away, too, as blank eyed as a discarded doll and ignorance - well it's not bliss, but it's quiet.
His mind's never quiet anymore. And this visit, he knows, is Steve's way of keeping up the fight for what kind of hold memory has on him. Thing is, it's not so simple as choosing to recall the good times or the bad. He can look at Steve and think of all the ways he's let him down.
So he thwaps another cushion against the back of the couch and shrugs a shoulder, only a little embarrassed to be caught.]
There's probably something in the building code. Of all the things to get het up over, people sure spend a lot of their moral outrage on paper sticks.
no subject
[His visits aren't just about keeping Bucky Bucky, about making him aware of himself, of remembering who he was. Steve has been that selfless but this isn't that. His visits are as much about remembering who he is, and Bucky, whether he feels guilty, bad day or good day, helps him to do that. Everyone sees the huge pillar of American Truth and Justice but he thinks that Bucky still sees the little guy inside.]
I'm pretty sure you can still smoke inside your own house.
[He says it with a slight turn of his lips, the barest kind of smile, and that dry Steve Rogers humor.]
no subject
No alarms going off yet.
[Maybe he can risk putting the cushion down.
It's not just the coughing, it's that he knows Steve won't exactly approve, and approval is still ridiculously high on Bucky's agenda when it comes to his friend. It's been a painful process, settling back into this world that feels at once too comfortable and too much like it's no longer made to fit. Facing up to Steve as he is now, with the life he has now and the people he calls friends.
All of them more worthy of the title than Bucky can hope to be, anymore. But he's learned to look Steve in the face, and to look at his own face in the mirror without feeling an instinctive recoil, and that's a step, right? It's gotta be.
All of it's hesitant, all of it makes him feel uneasy, but he sticks through it because running away again's a thing he can't do to Steve now. He shoves his hands in his pockets and stands his ground.]
You want me to put on the TV? There's probably a game - there always seems to be a game.
no subject
It kind of loses its magic when I can watch whenever I want. I don't know. Feels wrong, not getting excited about a game being on the radio once, and if you miss it you miss it.
[He's still so old-fashioned. He only has a DVD player because it lets him catch up, but he prefers going to the actual theater, like he did when it was 1940. Even if there are no ushers and the theaters are bigger, grander. And they don't show the news anymore.]
Do you want to go out?
no subject
I don't have plans.
[Out can mean a few things, in their vernacular. Out, when you're Steve Rogers, isn't always a casual affair. Doesn't always mean you're off the clock.]
no subject
You can have it.
[Meaning if it rings, Steve won't answer it. It's a night to be a bit selfish, maybe, to not pay attention to the world. Besides, if they really need him, he has a feeling the entire world will know.]
I'm supposed to try Thai food.
no subject
God knows exactly what Zola hopped him up on, but if it can survive the ice then it positively thrives on a high-sodium, low-nutrient diet. If he went the all chicken and veggies route he might wind up unstoppable.
He looks at Steve's phone. Thinks about the menus.
Wonders how many numbers in here he'd recognise at all.]
Okay, so there's probably five places within half an hour. [Order in or walk there, the food should take about the same time.]
no subject
How often do you think I eat anywhere that isn't my local diner?
[The waitresses always slip him a "free" piece of pie that he always pays for anyway.]
You pick. I'll rely on your good judgement.
no subject
[Or just get him to notice a few of the ones throwing themselves in his path like roses under the king's carriage. Then again, Steve Rogers never really has cared about anything that didn't feel like hard work.
It's different for Bucky. He's got this don't touch air about him now, and he cultivates it as much for everyone else's protection as his own. He's not safe. He's not good and the only safety he finds comes from being around people who recognise that.
He's supposed to be getting back to the real world, that's what they say. But they're just better off, the world and him, keeping at a distance.
Dinner, though? Dinner should be okay.]
I'll grab a jacket.
[Brown leather, on his way out the door.]
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The entire country seems to want to get me a girl. Can't you focus on feeding me?
[It's just that every day, at least once a day, someone is trying to set him up, but Steve's in no shape to wine and dine anyone.
And Steve is following.]
no subject
(He spent maybe half a year looking to find somebody with enough rational fear to kill him, because while he didn't know so much back then, the one thing he could be certain of was that Steve'd never forgive him if he put a bullet through his brain himself.
Didn't work out. Either people are softer in this century or nobody else wanted Steve on their conscience, either.)]
Y'know, people have been telling me I should get a dog.
[Yeah yeah okay he'll take it home and feed it. He glances back, half an old smile remembering how it fits against his mouth.]
Runt of the litter.
no subject
The streets around Bucky's apartment are familiar and not - but it's comfortable enough that Steve visibly relaxes. Manhattan bothers him, it's too different, but then neither of them have much cared for Manhattan (you Brooklyn boys, Sam says, shaking his head and utterly enjoying Harlem) and Brooklyn's changed, too, but it's stayed enough the same that they can still feel somewhat at home.
The smile makes Steve smile in reply. It's that old, soft look, it's a good smile, it's a Bucky smile.]
Natasha says I need a cat, if I'm not going to get a girlfriend.
no subject
[Did she make the obvious joke? She probably did. She jokes more with Steve than him, maybe it's that Steve smiles easier or doesn't look quite so lost when he doesn't get it. But Bucky appreciates when people are light with him, too. Especially the people who know how much darkness there's been.
Of course he came back to Brooklyn, when they finally got him to come back. Natasha's in Little Ukraine, and Steve's a couple of minutes away. When he finally stopped haunting rooms in both their apartments it was natural he'd move here.]
So it's a decision now. You're going to be a monk.
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[There was no doubt that Bucky wouldn't hurt them, his aim had always been good enough to miss on purpose.]
She said that made sense.
[Although Steve doesn't know all the reasons, for Natasha, that it makes any sense at all.
And then a pause.]
Come on, who's going to want to date me? I don't know anything about growing up in this century.
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[It's not really affronted, not since he hasn't gotten past the stage where he flinches to be touched, and makes efforts in avoiding it if only so as not to let that show.
But really. Really. This time when he turns he stops, and that's to let Steve catch up level with him so he can more effectively narrow his eyes as they walk.]
Ever heard of women with eyes? Pretty sure you'd have a few applicants from that candidate pool.
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100 years later and the streets of Brooklyn still aren't safe for pretty girls. Mrs. Schwartz was right.
[James Buchanan, you'll still be chasing girls around here in a hundred years, you'll never settle down- had been something of a mantra.]
They don't really see me.
[He doesn't mean that he doesn't get looked at - he does - he means that they look at him and they see a handsome man, they don't see who he really is.]
They'd go on a date and get bored after twenty minutes.
no subject
[Mrs Schwartz was right but for all the wrong reasons. The pretty girls of Brooklyn are barely a blip on his radar right now. Mrs Schwartz was right.
Whoever Mrs Schwartz was.
He can't pin a face to the name, or a name to the saying, so he quirks an eyebrow in place of a smile and keeps on walking, feeling the discomfort of it settle somewhere against his ribs. 'Least it's not his stomach, or dinner would be a real awkward affair. As it is-]
Though you're doing a crappy job selling me on this meal. I guess I can read the funnies.
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[He says it with raised eyebrows and more than a hint of incredulity.]
Who says I'm here to keep you entertained? I thought it was the other way around.
[He gives a smile, one of those Steve Rogers smiles that almost no one sees, the kind of smile that makes girls -
No, there she goes, a girl on the street catching sight of him and tripping over nothing, turning red and picking herself up before hurrying away.]